


sweet silver bells

by BerryliciousCheerio



Series: maybe be alright [3]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, I KNOW ITS NOT CHRISTMAS OK I AM AWARE, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 21:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9142858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerryliciousCheerio/pseuds/BerryliciousCheerio
Summary: "MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS!"or: the danvers family on christmas morning





	

**Author's Note:**

> LISTEN I KNOW I AM AWARE IT IS THE 31st BUT ITS STILL DECEMBER OF 2016 WHERE IM AT SO FUCK OFF ITS CHRISTMAS
> 
> disclaimed

 

 

 

It’s still dark when Lena feels Kara slip out of bed.  In their earlier days, she used to try and coax her back, leech her warmth a little longer, but she knows better now—she also knows that there’s an over-excited pair of kids just outside their door, bouncing on their heels in the hall, waiting for Kara to appear and lead them in various rituals that Lena only has a vague sense of, considering she stays in bed for at least another hour. 

As if on cue, just after Kara’s left the door to their room creaks open again.  Lena’s tempted to grope for her glasses in case she actually needs to see, in case Stella needs help to get into bed, but her fears are proven useless when her youngest climbs up easily. 

Stella wastes no time; as soon as Lena’s drawn back the covers enough, she’s burrowed under them, small hands pressing here or there to arrange her mother in a way that allows for Stella to curl up in the curve of her body.  “Bright,” is all she says, mumbled into Lena’s chest, her little eyes pinched shut.  She hadn’t closed the door after her, Lena notices then, and it’s letting the lights from the rest of the apartment spill in.

“Can’t have that, can we?” Lena whispers before she pulls the sheets over their heads.  She wraps her arms around her daughter, tucks her closer, under her chin where she can feel each little breath she draws.  All her children are tactile, cuddlers like Kara, but Maia and Finn were never like this, never a little shadow to Lena. 

She kind of hopes Stella never grows out of it. 

They doze for another hour or so—Lena doesn’t know the exact time, but she does know that Kara tries to buy them as much sleep as possible, so when the door to their room bursts open in a flurry of movement and tinsel and noise, she greets it with a smile, sitting up and pulling Stella into her lap.  The toddler whines a little, keeps her face tucked into Lena’s chest; Lena keeps one arm around her, holds her upright as she reaches out with the other to catch the over eager balls of energy that bounce onto the bed, heedless of Kara behind them, grinning even as she says, “Hey, no jumping on the bed!”

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!” Finn and Maia yell, drowning out their mother.  Lena only winces a little, a feat in of itself considering how close Maia is to her ear.

“Merry Christmas, darlings,” Lena responds at a much more reasonable volume—granted, she’s not under the age of seven and being held off from Christmas presents, which may have something to do with it.

Maia leans heavily on Lena when she peers over her shoulder, trying to coax her little sister to respond by singing, “Stelllaaaa.”  When the little girl in her lap doesn’t respond, Lena brushes some of the hair out of her eyes and looks down to see if she’s even awake, which she is, barely.  Bolstered by this discovery, Maia grins.  “Stella!  It’s Christmas!” 

The bed dips again, Kara displacing Finn momentarily in order to sit next to her wife, settling her son on her lap soon after.  From his new seat, Finn joins his sister in her attempt to rouse the littlest Danvers.  “Santa came, Stella, and—.”

The mention of the man in red is enough to garner a bit more of a response.  Lena’s smile widens when Stella squirms in her arms, swallows her grunt of pain when her daughter lands an elbow to her sternum in her haste.  In a blink, Stella’s slid off the bed and is marching towards the door, pausing only to send a look over her shoulder, as if to ask _are you coming?_  

Her siblings are hot on her heels, their longer legs taking them past her quickly, though Finn hangs back to hold her hand, ever mindful of the stairs that she hasn’t quite mastered and his ridiculously solemn promise to be the _best big brother ever, write that down mommy, ‘s gotta be legal_.  Kara’s up and following a second later, zipping back just to toss a sweater at Lena before she’s off again, a blur of red and white and laughter that has Lena’s heart warm and soft and two sizes too big.

When she unfolds the sweater, she can’t help but laugh.  Of course it’s matching to Kara’s.  She’s sure if she’d taken a moment longer to look, she’d have seen smaller versions on her eldest children.  And she’s sure that, at this very moment, the quartet has made a pit stop to get Stella her own Danvers Family Christmas Sweater.

Lena’s right of course.  By the time she’s pulled the sweater on and ambled into the hall, Kara’s just stepped out of Stella’s room, Maia on her back and Finn clinging to one leg, Stella to the other, wearing the final matching sweater.  Kara’s super-strength is serving their children well, it seems, allowing them all to hitch a ride down the stairs with no trouble for their mother.  Thinking quickly, Lena runs back for her phone and snaps a photo.  Something about the joy on her kids’ faces, the pride in Kara’s makes her want to keep this memory on hand.

Kara shuffles to the stairs, makes it all the way to the first step before Finn gets up, opting instead to dash downstairs, two at a time.  Stella’s the next to abandon ship, untangling herself and toddling over to pout at Lena, arms raised.

“Can you ask out loud, love?” Lena prompts gently.  They’ve been working on this a lot—Kara’s a lot better at getting her to sign or use her words; Lena’s found that Stella’s figured out how to replicate her mother’s ever effective pout and puppy dog eyes and often gives in to the little girl’s silent requests. 

Never in her life would Lena have thought that _she’d_ be the pushover. 

As it stands, though—Stella pouts a little longer, stretching up on tip toes to reach for Lena, but she finally murmurs, “Up,” just as Lena’s about to give in.  She waits a moment longer, quirking one eyebrow until Stella adds, “Please.”  

At least that’s what Lena thinks she’s said, her voice too soft to be sure.  Regardless, Lena drops the tough act and beams at her little girl, reaching down to lift her up, settling her on her hip.  Stella drops her head to rest against her mother, hiding her face again and fiddling with the collar of Lena’s sweater as they head towards the stairs.  Kara’s disappeared into the living room, the first line of defense when it comes to staving off the inevitable massacre long enough for the youngest, sleepiest kid to make it downstairs. 

With that in mind, Lena picks up her pace, humming Christmas carols under her breath and smiling when Stella joins her as best she can.  When she rounds the corner into the living room, Kara’s planted herself firmly in front of the tree and, by extension, the veritable mountain of presents surrounding it.  She’s leveling what Lena knows is a very playful glare at Maia and Finn, pouting on the couch.  Maia catches sight of her mother first, expression brightening in an instant.  “Mommy’s here!” she all but yells at Kara.  “’nd so’s Stella, so _presents_.”  Beside her, Finn’s nodding, eyeing the biggest box with his name on it. 

Lena figures that he’s trying to see what’s inside it, if the petulant look he shoots her a moment later is anything to go by.  But, like, really?  She’s been well aware of Kryptonian powers for what’s going on a decade now, she’s absolutely figured out lead-lined wrapping paper.

Kara catches sight of the silent exchange, laughing as she says, “I think that’s up to Mommy, right?”  And this is familiar, easy to slide into; Kara feigns like the decision is up to Lena, which is probably the most ridiculous thing considering its Lena that’s a sucker for their kids’ collective pouting.

She nods anyway, biting back a grin and, she’s sure, failing miserably at it.  “I _suppose_ we’ve made you wait long enough,” Lena sighs playfully, bending down when she feels Stella perk up at the sight of presents.  Stella’s quick to join her siblings, scrambling out of Lena’s arms and reaching for Finn’s hand in an instant before pulling him towards the tree.  Maia’s floating over to join them Lena realizes a beat later, watching her eldest hover a few inches off the ground.

Kara hasn’t noticed, she’s sure, just as excited about finally getting to rip into the presents are their kids are and, quite honestly, Lena doesn’t think that it’s worth it, reminding Maia to stay earthbound.  She’s a kid, she’s excited and they’re in their home, where it’s safe to let go of the rigid control necessitated by the outside world.

So Lena stays quiet, makes her way over to her favorite spot on the couch while Finn and Maia make use of their super-speed, separating presents quickly.  Kara’s floated to the top of the tree with Stella in her arms, letting her pick up the cards they’d tucked out of sight of curious little eyes.  There’s a mug of cocoa on the coffee table in front of Lena, devoid of marshmallows and whipped cream and very obviously meant for her and she smiles around it when she takes a sip.

The sun’s fully risen by now, at least, weak rays falling into their living room, giving everything a hazy look to it.  Lena slips her phone out of her pocket to snap another photo, to capture the vaguely organized chaos of Christmas morning.  She waits until both of Kara’s feet are on the ground again before she takes another, humming to herself as she saves it as her new lock screen.

In a heartbeat Kara’s beside her, huffing, “I’m too old to be an elf, apparently,” even as she fights off a smile that Lena’s sure could put the lights on the tree to shame.  She takes Lena’s mug and sets it on the coffee table again in order to tuck herself closer without fear of spilling cocoa on their couch.

Lena takes the opportunity to lean up and kiss her wife soundly, drawing back and smirking at the flush that’s creeping up her neck.  “Just realized I never said Merry Christmas,” Lena murmurs by way of explanation, turning back and leaning into Kara, humming contentedly when her arms come around her.

“Merry Christmas,” Kara responds quietly, pressing a kiss to Lena’s temple.  

And then—because super-hearing, of course—Finn whips around, yelling, “MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS!” and Lena only regrets letting him watch Home Alone a little.

 

 

 


End file.
